


Twice Yours

by leontina (Leontina)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-01 19:56:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5218829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leontina/pseuds/leontina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco needs Harry to pretend to date him at a family event in order to manipulate Lucius. Draco also needs to pretend to date Pansy at the same family event so that he can pretend to be straight around Narcissa. Only one of those fake relationships is built upon a long-standing crush - and it doesn’t involve Pansy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twice Yours

**Author's Note:**

> Cylsus, I really hope you enjoy this. I loved your sign-up, and I tried to include as much as I could.

*** 

When Harry opened his front door, he didn’t expect to see Draco Malfoy the other side of it. Granted, Malfoy had sent a letter earlier that day saying he needed to talk to Harry, but Harry hadn’t actually expected Malfoy to come.

It had been three years since Harry had seen Malfoy last, in the courtrooms at the Ministry when Harry had testified on behalf of the Malfoy family. Malfoy looked better than he did then, still all sharp angles but with a healthy glow to him. 

“Potter,” Malfoy nodded. “May I come in?” he asked as he stepped through the doorway and into Harry’s hallway.

“I don’t think it would make a difference if I said no, anyway,” Harry murmured lightly, rolling his eyes as Malfoy removed his travelling cloak and placed it on the hook on the wall like he was familiar with the cottage. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

“Do I detect a hint of sarcasm there, Potter?” Malfoy drawled. “Your manners aren’t up to scratch concerning guests.”

“Sorry,” Harry said. “It’s just, you waltzed in here so casually I forgot that you don’t actually live here.”

Malfoy smirked and raised a brow elegantly. He was probably thinking the same thing Harry was; they’d been in the same room for less than five minutes for the first time in three years, and they were already in a battle of words.

“No need for that attitude, Potter,” Malfoy chastised gently. “I need to talk to you about something; a proposition, if you will.”

Harry guided Malfoy to the lounge, and gestured for Malfoy to take a seat in an armchair. Harry took the seat opposite, and crossed one leg over the other as he waited for Malfoy to start.

“What? You’re not going to offer me a drink?” Malfoy said, affronted.

Harry shook his head. “Nope. I just really want to know why you’re here when we haven’t seen each other for three years. What kind of proposition are you on about?”

“You’ll recall, Potter,” Malfoy said, “that I saved your life by not revealing your identity when you were captured by the Snatchers. As such, you owe me a life debt.”

“Yes, but didn’t I save you twice after that?” Harry pointed out. “Surely that cancels out my life debt to you.”

Malfoy shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that, Potter.”

Harry was sure Malfoy was wrong, but he couldn’t be bothered with arguing the point.

“I now require your services,” Malfoy pressed on. “My parents relocated to France once their trials were over, and they’ve been there ever since. I think it’s about time they come home, but they’re being _difficult_ about it. I thought using you might make them more agreeable to come home.”

“You are aware your father despises me, right?” Harry said. “Why don’t you just talk to them about coming home if you miss them?”

“I don’t miss them,” Malfoy said quickly. “I just don’t think it’s proper for them to stay away from their home country for so long. Father says he doesn’t want to return because he doesn’t want to be ostracised, but he won’t believe me when I say that’s no longer the case.”

“But he would be ostracised,” Harry frowned. “The public are very ruthless about that kind of thing. What are you expecting me to do? Lie to your parents in the hope that they’ll believe me?”

“Not exactly,” Malfoy muttered, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forwards. “My parents are hosting a _Fête de Famille_ in their villa. I, along with a handful of my friends, are invited for a long weekend of events. It’s a tradition amongst French pure-bloods, to promote unity amongst family and close friends.”

“I don’t see where I tie into this,” Harry said, “considering I am neither family nor a close friend.”

“My father’s been away a long time,” Malfoy retorted. “So for all he knows, you could be. Friendship with the darling saviour would certainly make my father think the Malfoy name has regained respect; a romantic relationship even more so.”

Malfoy was looking at Harry pointedly, and Harry was now aware of what Malfoy was planning on asking him.

“You want me to come with you as your _date_?” he asked, alarmed, his shock fading as Malfoy scoffed.

“Only a pretend one,” Malfoy said. “We don’t actually need to be a couple; we just need to make my father _think_ we are. If he thinks you’re on our side then he’ll be more likely to come home.”

“And you brought up life debts earlier because I don’t have a choice in this, do I?” Harry guessed.

Malfoy nodded. “Pansy, Blaise, Theo, and Millicent will be joining me. It would be an added benefit if you could get some of your friends to do the same thing - they’ll get a free short break in France, with accommodation and food included. Granger can have Theo, Weasley can have Millicent, and Lovegood can have Blaise.”

“Blaise already has a Light-sided girlfriend,” Harry pointed out, having become well acquainted with Blaise now Ginny was dating him.

“Yes, but she’s out of the country with the Harpies,” Malfoy said, referencing the European Quidditch Cup which was taking part in Denmark. 

“Fair enough,” Harry reasoned. “I suppose if I’m being forced to do this then I might as well pull my friends along with me. But what about Pansy? Do you want me to bring Neville?”

Malfoy pulled a face. “Like Pansy would let that oaf anywhere near her! No, Pansy has a date.”

Malfoy suddenly couldn’t meet Harry’s eyes.

“Who?” he asked sharply, drawing Malfoy’s gaze back to him.

“You may have noticed I said I needed you to fool my father?” Malfoy said, and Harry nodded. “Well, my father is aware that I’m gay, but my mother isn’t. I’m worried it would upset her - she often comments about how she’s looking forward to having grandchildren - so Pansy is covering for me as a girlfriend, just to keep my mother happy.”

“Wow,” Harry deadpanned. “We’ve been fake dating for five minutes and you’re already fake cheating on me. How are you going to date two people at once, even if they are both pretend?”

“Father will know Pansy’s a cover, and he won’t tell Mother about you because he respects that I don’t want to come out to her,” Malfoy answered, sounded very sure of himself. “And you and Pansy will both stick with me, and I’ll play up depending on which parent is around. If they’re both nearby, I’ll keep things toned down to avoid suspicion.”

“And you really don’t want to try talking to your parents again?” Harry tried, but Malfoy shook his head. 

Harry wished he could say that this was the craziest thing he’d been involved in, but breaking into Gringotts and escaping via dragon really topped the charts for crazy plans - nothing else really came close to that. Besides, he could write off the supposedly still existing life debt and get a free holiday to France in the process.

The other bonus was that he didn’t have to worry about anything going wrong; that was Malfoy’s problem.

***

Malfoy Villa lay in the hills just on the outskirts of the town of Menton, located on the French Riviera, and close to the Italian border.

The villa was typically French, with pale pink walls and large windows. From its position in the hills, the view looked down onto the sparkling waters of the Mediterranean. It was incredibly beautiful.

Hermione nudged Harry in the side. 

“I was expecting to see a castle lair straight out of a James Bond movie,” she whispered to him, but her words were caught by Theo.

“Please,” he scoffed. “Lucius and Narcissa are posh, but they’re not super villains.”

“You know James Bond?” Hermione asked in surprise.

Leaving Hermione to get to know her fake date for the weekend, Harry went to stand beside Malfoy and Pansy. Pansy was clothed in a tight-fitting dress which barely came down her thighs, and had her face done up in make-up. Harry suddenly felt underdressed in his jeans and Muggle band t-shirt; what would Lucius Malfoy think?

And for that matter, Harry would also have to begin referring to each Malfoy family member by name to save any confusion.

“Nice house,” Harry said. “No wonder they don’t want to leave.”

“Potter.” Draco closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “If they ask, you think the house is in a pretty location but is otherwise ostentatious and gaudy. Image is very important to them.”

“Shouldn’t you be calling me by my first name now?” Harry grinned. “Or ‘Snookums’, if you prefer.”

“I think ‘Pookie’ or ‘Sweet Cheeks’ would work just as well,” Pansy added, smirking when Draco shot her a glare. 

They had reached the front door, and it swung open before Draco could even knock. Lucius and Narcissa stood the other side, each with a slight tan that contrasted brightly with their white-blond hair, and with smiles on their faces which looked clearly strained.

“I told you Draco wasn’t playing jokes, dear,” Narcissa said, patting Lucius gently on the arm. “Please, all of you; come in.”

The villa was just as elegant on the inside as it was on the outside, with shining white tiles and a silver and pale blue colour scheme running throughout. The windows offered a great view of the coastline, and allowed bright sunlight to stream across the floor.

Lucius was eyeing the group warily, though his gaze seemed mainly focused on Harry. Narcissa, meanwhile, had opened her arms, welcoming the unusual group in.

Luna had readily agreed to pretend to date Blaise, while Ron took up the promise of free food to get him to play pretend with Millicent. As expected, Hermione had been the hardest to convince, but he eventually swayed her with the opportunity for her to immerse herself in another culture.

“The house-elves will take your luggage to your rooms,” Narcissa said once they were all gathered in the entrance. “We’ll be serving bouillabaisse with homemade bread for dinner.

“Narcissa has become quite the accomplished cook,” Lucius said, speaking for the first time. He smiled fondly at his wife until he seemed to remember the company. “If you’ll follow me to the dining room?”

Lucius and Narcissa were both acting very polite, if a bit clinical, and Harry felt the slight tension that had been amongst the group fade away. It hadn’t affected Harry too much though; not until Narcissa went to the kitchen and Lucius focused all of his attention on Harry.

“So, Harry,” Lucius said, Harry’s name on his tongue being spoken like poison. “Imagine my surprise when Draco told me that he’d been dating _you_ for the last two years.”

Draco had told Harry their cover story before they arrived; Harry had been down on his luck, moping about his sorry lovelife when Draco had offered to buy him a pity drink which eventually turned into more. Harry didn’t like the story, but Draco had already given it to Lucius.

“Yes, I was surprised at what we became, too,” Harry replied. “There I was, lonely and miserable, and then my Boo Bear came into my life and made it so much better.” Harry didn’t even flinch when Draco stomped on his foot under the table.

“And you have no issue with Draco using Pansy to hide your relationship from his mother?” Lucius pressed.

Harry shook his head. “Not at all. I mean, I think it’s very important to be completely honest with your parents, but then, what would I know about that? I’m an orphan.” Harry paused, looking at Draco pointedly. “But if Draco’s not ready, he’s not ready.”

“That’s my Sugar Pie,” Draco beamed, placing his hand on top of Harry’s.

He hastily drew his hand back when Narcissa returned to the room, a large dish of steaming stew levitating in front of her.

“Bouillabaisse is one of your favourites, right, dear?” Draco said to Pansy, patting her knee gently.

“I _love_ foods I can’t pronounce,” Pansy agreed.

With Narcissa and Pansy there, the pressure was off Harry.

The dinner was surprisingly relaxed, with Narcissa prompting most conversation like a natural host, occasionally interrupted by Luna.

Blaise spent most of the evening stealthily tapping away on a Muggle phone which he had in his lap, while Theo and Hermione seemed to be lost in a discussion about animal rights; Theo was apparently vegetarian. Ron and Millicent were simply eating and watching, sharing glances every so often, while Harry tried to look at Pansy bitterly every time he felt Lucius’s eyes on him.

When Narcissa left to retrieve dessert, Draco’s hand went straight to Harry’s.

“You’re doing so well,” Draco said dramatically, nodding sincerely. “I know seeing me acting like I’m in love with somebody else must be so hard for you.”

“It’s a struggle,” Harry ‘admitted’ with a sigh. “But anything to help you, my love.”

Ron turned his snort of laughter into a cough, and Millicent thumped him on the back.

Narcissa returned with a tray full of individual ramekins, which she levitated down for each diner.

“Crème brûleé,” Narcissa stated, her smile fading when Pansy shook her head.

“I don’t want one, thank you,” Pansy said, oblivious to the glare Draco was shooting her. “I’m watching my figure.”

“You have a lovely figure,” Luna commented. “You don’t need to watch it.”

“I do if I want other people to watch it,” Pansy retorted, winking.

“I’ll have the spare, if it’s going,” Millicent said before Ron could, prompting a disappointed look on Ron’s face.

The crème brûleé was delicious, the golden top making a wonderful cracking noise when the spoon hit it. Pansy didn’t know what she was missing.

“I know you must be tired from travelling,” Narcissa said once dessert was over. “So I’ll let you go to your rooms soon. I have one favour to ask, however. I won’t have Draco and Pansy sharing a room; it’s improper for unmarried couples.”

Draco and Pansy both pretended to groan.

“I won’t stop the rest of you because I’m not your mother,” Narcissa pressed on. “But we are short of a room; would one of you gentlemen be so kind as to share with Draco?”

Harry shot a glance at Lucius who suddenly looked alarmed.

“I’ll do it,” Harry offered quickly, keeping his eyes locked on Lucius as he grinned. 

Lucius went pale but didn’t comment, proving his promise to his son was true.

As they all exited the dining room together, Draco drew Harry and Pansy to one side, waiting until everyone was gone before he spoke.

“What are you playing at?” he hissed, his anger mainly aimed at Pansy. “Refusing my mother’s food? You’re supposed to be winning her over as my charming girlfriend. I’d rather introduce my mother to a boyfriend than a girlfriend she hates.”

“Your mother could never hate me,” Pansy commented idly, looking at her nails.

“But she could hate you as my girlfriend. I know your diets, Pansy; they never last more than a week. Couldn’t you have waited a few days before you started? And you!” Draco turned to Harry. “What’s with all the stupid pet names and dramatic statements of love? Are you trying to make my father doubt us?!”

“Maybe this is just how I am in relationships, honey,” Harry retorted, even though he had never used pet names before. “There’s this one bloke I used to know as ‘Big D’.”

“Nice one,” Pansy grinned.

Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Just try harder, both of you. I’m going to bed.” He opened his eyes again and smiled wickedly at Harry. “Coming, babe?”

***

Breakfast the following morning was set up in a small hall, with a number of smaller tables rather than one big one, and with a long, narrow table filled with different breakfast foods; toast, croissants, bacon, eggs, ham, and cheeses. It wasn’t especially extravagant like Hogwarts had been, but it was still nicer than most breakfasts Harry had nowadays.

“How come your parents are treating us like hotel guests?” Harry asked Draco as they took a seat at a table with Pansy, Blaise, and Luna. “I mean, it’s nice, but it’s not what I expected.”

“It’s pure-blood etiquette, honestly,” Draco muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Pure-bloods like to act very cordial but efficient, but the end result can make them seem somewhat detached,” Luna added, answering Harry’s question much more thoroughly. “I suspect Blaise must really love Ginny, because rather than keeping his distance he seems to be talking to her non-stop; isn’t that right, Blaise?”

Blaise grunted in response, attention focused on the phone in his lap.

“I’d have invited Goyle if I wanted a bad conversationalist as company,” Draco drawled, tapping the table in front of Blaise, trying to catch his attention but failing. “Neither of my parents are here yet so I’m going to go and get two plates of food; whichever parent arrives first determines who gets a plate.”

“What if they arrive at the same time?” Blaise murmured, not looking up.

“I’ll see which one’s looking,” Draco said, sounding very sure of himself.

“Poor, deluded boy,” Pansy commented after Draco left.

“You see the flaws in his double-fake-dating scheme, then?” Harry asked her, curious as to her thoughts about it.

“We all do!” Pansy replied, rolling her eyes. “All except Draco, of course. But he’s stubborn; once he gets an idea in his head he’s right and nobody’s going to change his mind.”

“That sounds rather like Harry,” Luna mused.

Draco returned to the table the same time that Lucius arrived. Harry tried not to look too smug in front of Pansy as Draco laid a plate of ham and cheese in front of him.

“I’d have preferred a croissant,” Harry grinned.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Quick, while my mother’s not here; kiss me.”

“What?!” Harry must have heard wrong.

“For the love of-!”

Draco wound his hand in Harry’s shirt and tugged him forwards, kissing him with gentle lips. Draco pulled back quickly, but Lucius’s strained cough indicated that he had seen it.

Harry didn’t bother to look at Lucius, staring instead at nothing, wide-eyed, and with his fingertips pressed to his lips which were still warm from Draco’s own.

“Harry mustn’t kiss much, Draco,” Pansy murmured. “Don’t go thinking his reaction means you’re some kind of kissing god.”

“I’d beg to disagree,” Draco retorted with a smirk . “Go get yourself something to eat, Pansy, and grab Harry a croissant while you’re up there.”

“I’ll go for you,” Luna said, smiling sweetly at Pansy. “You still look very dazed, Harry; you must have enjoyed that kiss.”

Harry _had_ enjoyed the kiss, not that he would ever admit that out loud. It was nothing to do with Draco personally, Harry was sure.

“Today then,” Draco began, “my family and I will be taking part in a winged horse race with some of the nearby magical families - yes, Blaise, you can place bets,” Draco added as Blaise looked up eagerly. “I need you two to cheer me on; not so much that you show me up.” At this, Draco gave Harry a pointed look. “But enough that my parents think you’re holding out hopes for me winning.”

“Place a bet on Draco winning if you want your support to look authentic,” Blaise suggested.

“Do the rest of us not get to race, then?” Harry asked, disappointed. Winged horse racing sounded rather fun, though Draco hadn’t specified if the racing took part on the ground, in the sky, or both.

“It’s for the host’s and their direct family only; it’s to promote _community_ ,” Draco said. “Besides, have you ever ridden a winged horse in your life?”

“I’ve ridden a Thestral before,” Harry answered indignantly. “And a centaur, and a hippogriff, _and_ a dragon, for that matter.”

“Of course you have,” Draco muttered, throwing his hands in front of him in defeat. “I forgot who I was talking to for a minute. You still can’t join in, though; sorry, Snookums.”

“Prat,” Harry retorted.

***

There were more families than expected at the racing track, which was located amongst the rural hills. They had passed several small villages and lone farms on the way, but Harry doubted all of the houses belonged to magical families.

“Draco exaggerates a lot,” Theo said, answering for Hermione when Harry asked her what she thought. “By nearby, he means anyone magical in the this region of southern France.”

The Malfoy family themselves were on the green, while the rest of their group gathered in the stands that looked out onto the track, and the sea beyond that. The water sparkled in the sunlight, and Harry wondered how the riders managed to keep themselves getting distracted by the lovely view.

“Zehra Baykara,” Pansy said, leaning close to Harry. She pointed down to a tall girl wearing a red hijab. “Her father is good friends with Lucius, and I think he always hoped to arrange a marriage between Zahra and Draco. And there’s Mathieu Chevalier,” she murmured, pointing to a short young man with a rather impressive moustache which curled at the ends. “He’s from one of the most prominent and respected pure-blood families in France. He wishes to marry Zehra, but she has her heart set on a boy back in Turkey.”

“How do you even know all this?” Harry asked, only paying half-attention as he watched a stableboy guide a beautiful grey horse with black wings to Draco.

“It’s good to know these little details about people,” Pansy replied, tapping her nose. “Especially when you need something from them.”

“What does Draco know about you, then, to get you to agree to his scheme?” Harry asked, fixing Pansy with a teasing gaze.

Pansy grinned at him darkly. “Never you mind. That’s a Granian that Draco’s riding, by the way; one of the fastest breeds of winged horses in the world.”

Draco was sat on the horse now, looking more at ease than Harry would have thought. His thighs looked well-defined from where they were spread across the horse’s body, and the smile on his face looked less arrogant and more natural than his usual smirk.

“Draco’s not bad to look at, is he?” Harry commented idly as the racers and their horses trotted into starting position. “I mean, if we had to fake date anyone we could do a lot worse.”

A lot worse, Harry reckoned, admiring the way the white-blond of Draco’s hair glinted in the sun. He sparkled the same way the sea did, in a way that none of the other racers could manage.

“I suppose so,” Pansy murmured, looking critically at Draco. “It probably helps if you’re into men.”

Harry’s eyes snapped to Pansy in surprise. “Oh. So you’re …?”

“A lesbian, Harry, yes,” Pansy answered with a roll of her eyes. “You’re allowed to say the word. Aren’t you gay, anyway?”

“Bisexual,” Harry corrected easily. “I was genuinely into Ginny at the time, but she’s far better suited to Blaise.”

Blaise was sat two rows in front of them, scrawling away on a piece of parchment which had several hearts scribbled on it, as well as certain _phallic_ looking drawings.

“Sappy perv,” Pansy commented dryly.

An announcer’s voice cut through the noise of the crowd, magically amplified to reach them all. They spoke in French, but an English translation followed.

“The race is about to start!” the translator called. “The first lap will be in the air, and the second on the ground. The first one back to the start is the winner!”

A woman with a black and white flag stood at the side of the racers, and she waved the flag as she counted down in French. As soon as she shouted what Harry assumed was “go!”, the racers were off.

Draco seemed to be roughly in the lead, though Zehra was close behind him. The black wings of Draco’s horse moved elegantly as the animal lifted Draco easily through the air, both of them looking like they were born to do it.

Harry stood up and hauled Pansy with him, clapping his hands as he cheered Draco on.

“Come on, Draco!” Harry shouted, nudging Pansy until she joined in. Out of the corner of his eye Harry swore he saw Lucius and Narcissa watching them, but most of his attention was focused on Draco.

Draco’s horse was the first to land, and the horse was even faster on the ground than it was in the air. Other riders were close behind him, but Draco was focused on himself alone, urging his horse onward.

The galloping of horses only fuelled the tension, but Draco made it across the finish line first. Draco grinned triumphantly, his eyes flicking across the crowd and landing on Harry. Draco winked at him, before jumping down from his horse and patting the animal’s side.

Harry watched as Draco spoke animatedly with his parents, frowning when he saw a little girl run up to Draco and kick him in the back of the leg.

Draco had his wand drawn instantly, and the little girl ran away spooked as Lucius clutched Draco’s wrist in an attempt to stop him hexing the girl.

Harry shared a glance with Pansy, and together they hurried down the stands towards Draco.

“Marcelle,” Pansy explained as they ran. “She’s Mathieu’s little sister; she’s five, I think.”

When they reached Draco, he was hopping around with a grimace of pain on his face, his eyes narrowed.

“I want that brat banned from future events, you hear me, Father?” Draco was saying. “Mathieu, too, in fact. I thought they respected the art of losing gracefully.”

“Harry, Pansy,” Narcissa said gratefully, spotting them for the first time. “Would one of you please escort Draco to his room; a house-elf will attend with a pain-relieving potion. I’ll go ahead to inform them.”

“I’ll take him,” Harry said once Narcissa was gone. “All Draco needs is a bit of TLC.”

“What’s that?” Lucius asked suspiciously. “Muggle medicine?”

“Tender loving care,” Harry explained, giving Lucius a wink. “Come on, Bonbon; your little dove will take care of you.”

“Fuck off, Potter,” Draco hissed as Harry wrapped his arm around his shoulders.

“Poor dear’s delirious,” Harry sighed, smiling sweetly at Lucius before Disapparating.

“This better not take away the fact I won the race,” Draco grumbled as Harry helped him onto his bed. “You haven’t even given me a congratulatory kiss.”

“You really are delusional,” Harry said as he fluffed Draco’s pillow. “Your father isn’t in the room with us, you know.”

“Right,” Draco muttered, settling back onto his freshly-fluffed pillow with a huff. 

He sounded oddly disappointed, Harry thought, and even Harry felt a weird pang of regret that he hadn’t taken up the offer for a kiss. Harry still remembered the kiss from that morning, short but sweet it had been.

“Go on, then,” Harry said, sounding far braver than he felt. “Just a little one.”

Harry bent over Draco, pressing their lips together gently. 

“Feel better?” Harry asked as he pulled away.

“I hate to break it to you, Harry, but you don’t have the miracle touch,” Draco retorted, but he sounded as dazed as Harry had felt that morning.

Harry jumped back as a knock sounded at the door, and Narcissa entered with a house-elf by her side.

“I’ll go let Pansy know how he’s doing,” Harry said quickly, hurrying away in case she could read what Harry had done just by looking at him.

Because despite the situation, Harry couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

***

Dinner that night was also in buffet style. As well as French dishes, they also had Italian, Spanish, and Greek. In fact, Harry was eyeing up a healthy looking slice of Moussaka when Lucius Malfoy sidled up to him.

Narcissa and Lucius were both in attendance of the meal, so all of Draco’s attention was on Pansy. Harry couldn’t help but feel a little bit left out, and had decided to bury his emotions in food. Lucius seemed intent on putting a stop to that, however.

“Wise choice in Moussaka, Harry,” Lucius commented lightly, laying his hand on Harry’s arm. “I think I’ll go for that, too. Would you care to join me for dinner?”

No, Harry didn’t care to join Lucius for dinner. He was already alarmed at how polite Lucius was being, especially considering how vicious their past encounters had been, but Harry could hardly say no. Lucius wasn’t just the host, but the father of Harry’s supposed boyfriend, which meant that Harry had to play nice with him.

Narcissa was sat with Pansy and Draco, which meant that at least they were going through something similar, but to Harry’s knowledge, Narcissa had never wished death upon Draco or Pansy.

Lucius led Harry to an empty table, and if he saw Harry’s pleading look to Ron then Lucius didn’t say anything. Lucius had chosen the table furthest away from Narcissa, which suggested to Harry that Lucius planned on talking to Harry about his ‘relationship’ with Draco.

“You and my son seem very, ah, _cosy_ together,” Lucius said, confirming Harry’s suspicions. “You were the last person I thought my son would choose, especially considering the climate back home concerning anyone who associated with the Death Eaters.”

“Well I was never into all that anyway,” Harry answered honestly. And, deciding he may as well play up Draco’s goal of convincing Lucius to come home, he added, “it’s not so bad now, anyway. There was a lot of violence at first, but now it’s mainly social exclusion; it’s pretty much the way werewolves have been treated for years. I suppose you’ll know all about excluding people based on prejudice, though.”

The insult slipped out before Harry could stop it, and Lucius’s jaw clenched.

“One thing I will admit to you, Harry,” Lucius said, the polite tone to his voice coming out strained, “is that I very much dislike you. I was brought up to be a gracious host, but I’d love nothing more than to slap the insolence out of you. I even briefly wondered about drowning you in the swimming pool and pretending you’d fallen in accidentally..”

Harry had never been threatened so elegantly.

“But the thing is,” Lucius continued, “is that even if I wasn’t a gracious host, or I didn’t have to worry about being imprisoned, I still wouldn’t do you any harm. You make Draco very happy, and I care too much about my son to put my own grievances first. To hurt you would please me but distress Draco, and even if I disagree about Draco’s choice of partner, I respect that it’s what he wants.”

“That’s very…” Harry trailed off, not quite sure what word he was looking for. Which word summed up ‘not as evil as you could have been’? “Fatherly of you. And I appreciate you not drowning me.”

“I admit, I should have seen it coming,” Lucius said with a sigh, looking over towards Draco. “I just never thought you’d have accepted his wish to court you.”

“Yes, well, over coffee we realised we had a lot in common,” Harry mumbled, hoping Lucius didn’t question him too much on the supposed first date; Draco hadn’t gone into too much detail about it.

“I bet that pleased Draco. He never used to shut up about you when he was younger,” Lucius continued, acting like Harry hadn’t said anything. “I had hoped it was a passing crush, but even when he acted like he hated you I knew he was battling with his feelings for you. After the war he never mentioned you once, and I thought his crush was finally over, but I guess Draco was just concerned about my reaction to the two of you being in a relationship. How are you finding the Moussaka?”

All Harry could do was let out a pleased grunt, because how was he supposed to say anything with that revelation dropped on him? Draco had crushed on Harry throughout school, and maybe afterwards as well. Did Draco still fancy Harry now? Was this whole thing a scheme to get Harry to notice him?

Harry could admit to himself that he found Draco attractive. Draco wasn’t classically handsome, but Harry rather liked the sharp, pointed features. He liked that Draco was just that little bit taller than him, and he liked the unusual steel grey of Draco’s eyes.

But Draco hadn’t been nice to Harry or his friends while they were at school, and never acted like he had had a crush on Harry. Then again, Harry wasn’t exactly observant about that kind of thing. And Draco didn’t seem so bad now; he was witty and headstrong, which were traits Harry appreciated in a person.

Though why did the possibility that Draco might like him change anything between them? Chances were that they just wouldn’t work as a couple, and while Harry probably wouldn’t say no if Draco offered a shag, Harry wanted something more meaningful than a casual sex partner.

Harry chanced a look at Draco, who was looking rather miserable sat with Pansy and Narcissa. Draco caught Harry’s eye and winked, his face brightening up, and Harry felt his cheeks flush in response.

Damn Lucius.

***

When Lucius suggested a day around the swimming pool the next day, Harry was instantly suspicious after Lucius’s comments the previous night when he expressed desire to drown Harry.

Lucius and Narcissa were nowhere in sight, however. Draco said that they were planning a party which would be held that night, with the guests from the winged horse races invited - Draco had made his father ban the little girl, Marcelle, by having him say he wouldn’t allow a child to come where alcohol was being served.

“The Malfoy’s throw the best parties,” Millicent had said, finally opening up to the group. “Generally everyone ends up wasted.”

The alcohol frenzy wasn’t until later, however, and for now they were just enjoying the sun.

The swimming pool was on a terrace which overlooked the Mediterranean, and was surrounded by white sun-loungers. The water was perfectly clear blue and pleasantly warm; no doubt kept that way by magic.

Theo and Hermione were sat away from the pool, deep in discussion about a book which they both had a copy of. Blaise was posing in various positions in and around the pool, taking photos of himself which he said were to send to Ginny. Ron, meanwhile, seemed very content tugging Millicent around the pool while she lounged in a rubber ring, and Pansy was sunbathing while Luna kept diving under the water to do some kind of underwater gymnastics.

That left Harry and Draco.

Draco had his own rubber ring, and had it propped up carefully against the edge of the pool. Harry found himself drawn to Draco’s pale chest, and the trail of blond hair he had going from below his bellybutton and disappearing into the waistband of his swimming trunks. It was only a trail of hair, yet somehow Harry found himself fascinated by it.

Harry slipped under the water to clear his head, but when he came back up it was to the sight of Draco’s hair glistening in the sunlight.

Draco caught Harry’s gaze and quirked his eyebrows, prompting Harry to swim over to him.

“Having fun, Cuddle Muffin?” Harry asked, folding his arms over the side of the rubber ring and resting his head on his hands. Harry realised too late that this brought his face dangerously close to Malfoy’s thighs, but he couldn’t go back now.

“Of course, mon petit chou,” Draco replied curtly.

“Going French now, are we?” Harry teased.

“French is the language of love, don’t you know,” Draco said, and Harry’s heart skipped a beat as Lucius’s words from the night before echoed in his head.

“Somehow you make it sound less loving,” Harry grinned. “What does mon petit chou mean, anyway?”

“My little cabbage,” Draco answered with a grin of his own. “I reckon that suits you, actually; you’re pretty small and bitter.”

“I’m neither of those things!” Harry retorted, affronted. “I’m like an inch shorter than you at the most-”

“But you’re still shorter than me, thus you’re small,” Draco interrupted. “And you look pretty peeved about that, which makes you bitter, as well.”

“Well you’re...craquant,” Harry shot back, not knowing what the word meant but it was one that he had heard Fleur say a lot.

Draco’s laughter suggested that he, on the other hand, did know what the word meant. “Have you got any idea what you just said to me?”

“Do you?" Harry didn’t know why he bothered asking when he clearly knew that Draco did.

“You just called me gorgeous, Harry,” Draco explained, still grinning with amusement. “I think I’ll take that one.”

Shit. “Er, well at least I’m not an easy target.”

Draco stopped laughing and frowned, and didn’t have time to react before Harry pressed down on the rubber ring which unbalanced Draco and sent him tumbling into the water.

Harry supposed he deserved the splash in retaliation. 

Ron and Millicent soon got drafted in to help, and then came the others.

By the end of the day they were all soaking wet, and they were all smiling.

***

One thing Harry liked about attending a party with mostly non-British guests was that everyone left him alone because the Boy-Who-Lived and Voldemort were no concern of theirs.

What Harry didn’t like about the party was the British guests, namely Narcissa - whose presence prompted Draco to dance with Pansy.

Maybe it was just the punch which Harry had already had two glasses of, but for some reason he was just really feeling bitter about seeing Draco with Pansy. He knew that they weren’t interested in each other as anything other than friends, but the unexplained sense of jealousy had Harry glaring at the fake couple while they danced.

“You alright, mate?” Ron asked, dropping onto the chair beside Harry’s. “Did Draco ask you to stare jealously at him to trick his father or something?”

“What? No,” Harry answered, before realising the opportunity Ron had given him. “I mean yes, that’s definitely what I’m doing. I’m certainly not _actually_ jealous if that’s what you were thinking. I’m thirsty; can I have some of your drink?”

Without waiting for an answer, Harry snatched Ron’s glass off him and took a big swig of punch, grimacing slightly from the combination of overly-sweet fruit juice and the sour taste of the alcohol.

“Right,” Ron said, sounding very unconvinced. “Look, Harry, can I ask you something? What do you think to Millicent?”

“Millicent? She’s alright, I guess,” Harry shrugged. “She seems less aggressive than she used to be.”

“She was just self-conscious when she was younger, she told me. But do you think it would be okay; me and her together, I mean?” Ron looked nervous, as if he needed Harry’s approval before he could do anything.

“If you like her, why wouldn’t it be?” Harry said, casting another look at Draco and Pansy to see if they were still dancing - they were.

“I just mean, you know,” Ron said, lowering his voice. “Because of her size.”

Harry opened his mouth to reprimand Ron for being shallow, but Ron continued before Harry could tell him so.

“Surely a woman like that is going to want a proper man,” Ron sighed. “I’ve got a bit of a podge on my belly, but otherwise I’m all gangly and pathetic; there’s nothing to me. What good am I to her?”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “You know, Ron, normally someone like Millicent would worry that she’s too big for you; not the other way round.”

“What? Really?” Ron sounded astonished. “Millicent’s beautiful, all curvy with those thick thighs and cuddly stomach…”

“You really think so, Ron?” came Millicent’s voice from behind them. When Ron turned around to nod, Millicent’s lips were on his in seconds.

Harry tipped back the rest of Ron’s drink.

The ground only swayed slightly when Harry stood up, and he managed to stumble his way across the dance floor to Hermione and Theo.

“Ron likes Millicent,” Harry said loudly, patting Hermione’s arm. “Are you cool with that?”

“I’m cool with that,” she said, glancing at Theo and smiling.

Great,” Harry said. “I’m gonna get another drink.”

Harry ignored Hermione’s suggestions that he slow down, and made his way to the punch bowl where Luna was standing.

“Feeling jealous is unpleasant, isn’t it?” Luna said as Harry reached her, jerking her head towards Pansy and Draco.

“Luna,” Harry whined. “You can’t fancy Draco, too; it’s not fair.”

“I fancy Pansy, not Draco,” Luna corrected. “Have you finally realised you like Draco, then?”

“Yes, no, I don’t know,” Harry said, pouring the punch straight from the ladle into his mouth. He shuddered at the taste. “I think Draco’s pretty, and I’d like to get _fucked_ by Draco, but I don’t know if I like _him_ or if he’s just being nice because he’s my pretend boyfriend and I only like fake Draco.”

“Blaise is my pretend boyfriend and he isn’t nice to me,” Luna pointed out. “The nicest thing he’s done was accidentally including me in one of his sexy phone calls with Ginny. I think you should give Draco a chance - oh.”

Luna’s eyes were wide, and Harry saw it was because Draco and Pansy were kissing now, Narcissa and Lucius dancing beside them.

Lucius’s eyes locked with Harry’s, and Harry couldn’t be there anymore.

He ran from the ballroom, running into a robe-rack and knocking it over on the way. Harry ran through the hallway, into the first room on the right, and stopped dead in his tracks.

“Fucking Merlin’s fuck, Blaise!” Harry shouted, shielding his eyes with his hand. “What the fuck?”

Blaise grinned sheepishly, lowering his leg from the dado rail and pulling his trousers back up.

“Just something to help Ginny sleep at night,” Blaise beamed, unperturbed at being caught with his dick out. He held his camera close to him. “Returning the favour from the picture she sent me this morning.”

“Wow. I’m going to leave you to it,” Harry murmured, finding himself unable to look Blaise in the eye. “Congratulations, by the way, on, er, Little Blaise - or Big Blaise, I guess.”

“Cheers, chuck,” Blaise grinned, saluting Harry as Harry ran from the room and fell straight into Draco.

“Draco!” Harry exclaimed. “Did you know Blaise has a big cock?”

“I did,” Draco nodded. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Harry’s heart thrummed excitedly. Draco was actually taking him to bed!

Harry all but jumped onto Draco’s bed when they reached their room, spreading his legs wide.

“How do you want me?” he asked eagerly.

“What?” Draco blinked. “I didn’t mean...I didn’t bring you here to have sex.”

Harry frowned, sitting up and looking at Draco quizzically. “But your father told me that you’ve fancied me for years. I think I like you, too, Draco; you can fuck me if you like.”

The words were pouring out before Harry could stop them, but rather than encouraging Draco, they only seemed to make Draco take a step back.

“You’re drunk, Harry; you don’t know what you’re saying,” Draco said after a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Get some sleep.”

Sadness overcame Harry suddenly, the feeling of devastating rejection washing over him. “Don’t you like me?” he asked quietly, jutting his bottom lip out.

“Merlin, Harry,” Draco sighed, throwing his hands up and turning away. “I like you, yes, but not like this. Stand up; I need you to come with me.”

“Okay!” Harry jumped up, the sadness instantly being replaced with joy.

Draco led Harry out of their room and down the hallway, stopping a few doors down. Draco knocked loudly on the door, and an underwear clad Luna answered the door.

“Isn’t this Pansy’s room? Whatever; Harry needs to stay with you tonight,” Draco stated, pushing Harry encouragingly into the room. “I’ll see you tomorrow - sober.”

“He left,” Harry said sadly when Draco shut the door.

Someone huffed behind him, and Harry turned around to see Pansy, also semi-nude.

“Why doesn’t he want to sleep with me if he likes me?” Harry asked her, oblivious to Pansy’s annoyance. “Does he even like me?”

“Trust me; Draco likes you; we’ve all spent far too much time listening to him talking about you,” Pansy said bitterly. “But he doesn’t know whether you like him or if it’s just the alcohol talking.”

“But it is me talking,” Harry protested desperately.

“Draco can’t know that for definate. Besides, you should be glad our fake boyfriend isn’t willing to take advantage of a horny, trashed boy,” Pansy pointed out, plastering a forced smile onto her face. “Plus yours isn’t the only sex he’s ruined tonight.”

“Don’t worry, Pansy,” Luna said, easily guiding Harry into the spare bed. “We can have sex as soon as Harry goes to sleep.”

***

The following morning, Harry woke up nauseous, with a pounding headache, and horrific recollection of what he had done the night before. He could only remember fragments, but just a vague sense of begging Draco for sex and getting upset when Draco said no was awful enough.

He glanced across the room, hastily looking back when his eyes landed on the sight of Luna and Pansy curled up in bed together. At least some people had managed to make the most of the night.

Checking his watch, Harry sprang up when he saw it was half eleven in the morning. All embarrassment from seeing Pansy and Luna together - without clothes - vanished as Harry threw pillow after pillow at them until they woke, and they all hurried downstairs together in last night’s clothes.

There was supposed to be a picnic at the Malfoy’s private beach, starting at twelve. Their biggest worry should have been getting there on time, but that was until they ran into Narcissa Malfoy.

Luna managed to sneak past Narcissa undetected, mainly because Narcissa’s furious gaze was focused on Pansy and Harry, and it wasn’t hard to see why. There Pansy and Harry were, late up, together, dishevelled, and in last night’s clothes; to anyone who wasn’t aware of Pansy and Harry’s situation - like Narcissa - there was only one conclusion to reach.

“How could you?” Narcissa hissed coldly to Pansy. “Draco loves you, and this is how you repay him?!”

“Narcissa, this isn’t what it looks like,” Pansy tried to protest, but Narcissa was having none of it.

“And you, Harry,” she said, rounding on him. “Draco said the two of you were good friends now; why would you do this to him? This is going to break his heart.”

“We didn’t-” Harry tried, but Narcissa evidently wasn’t in the mood to listen.

“I’m going to march the two of you down to the beach now, and you’re going to explain yourselves to Draco before you leave,” Narcissa ordered, marching out of the villa with the implication to follow her clear.

Harry and Pansy shared a nervous glance; Draco would have never seen this coming.

Harry couldn’t even appreciate the lush greenery as they followed a steep, stone staircase to the beach at the bottom of the hill. Harry hoped desperately that Luna had the sense to warn Draco what was coming so he could come up with a cover story if necessary.

When they reached the beach, Narcissa beckoned Draco and Lucius over, having the decency to at least give the supposed revelation to Draco in private.

“I’m afraid,” Narcissa said gently to Draco. “Your girlfriend has committed a grave offence against your relationship.”

Lucius’s eyes bulged, but Draco didn’t flinch. From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Luna wink.

“She’s _cheated_ on you,” Narcissa pressed, obviously presuming Draco hadn’t caught the meaning of her more delicate phrasing, “with Harry. I caught them coming downstairs together dressed like harlots.”

“Rude,” Pansy muttered under her breath.

To Harry’s surprise, Draco actually laughed. “Actually, Mother; Harry, Pansy, and I partook in ménage à trois last night.”

Lucius promptly choked.

“What?” Narcissa asked blankly

“Forgive me for being blunt, Mother,” Draco said, “but Pansy wished to see how it would be to have two men at once. They were both worn out so I left them asleep this morning.”

“Right,” Narcissa said quickly, closing her eyes and grimacing. “Just have some decorum from now on, Draco, please. You’re a pure-blood, remember.”

“So we can stay the last night?” Pansy asked eagerly.

Narcissa considered it for a moment. “Yes, but please show some respect and have some dignity; you don’t need to flaunt your perversions. I think I’m going to lay down for a moment; coming, dear?”

Lucius nodded, but not before casting a lingering, suspicious look at Harry. Lucius knew that Draco was gay and had no interest in Pansy, but obviously couldn’t find reason for Draco covering for Harry had Harry actually been cheating on him with Pansy.

“This could cause a mess,” Harry stated, watching Lucius’s retreating back.

“Absolutely,” Draco agreed. “Come down the beach with me, Harry? I need to talk to you.”

Once they were far enough away from the others, finding a rocky outcrop by the sea, Draco gestured for them to stop and sit down. They rolled their trouser legs up so they could dangle their feet in the sea, the water cold but somehow pleasant despite that.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Harry said, swirling his feet around in the water. “I think I probably put you on the spot.”

“A little bit, yes,” Draco nodded. “But you were drunk. My father couldn’t help saying what he told you, but you didn’t have to jump into bed with me to try and appease me. I didn’t ask you to fake-date me just to get you into bed.”

“I didn’t want to sleep with you just because I felt I owed you, you entitled prat,” Harry grinned, though his heart was pounding nervously. “I genuinely like you. I think we have potential, at any rate, and I’m attracted to you.”

“Oh?” Draco said, tilting his head and leaning in towards Harry. “That changes things.”

Draco closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to Harry’s. Unlike their previous kisses, which had been brief and gentle, this kiss was deeper, more intense and leaving Harry hungry for more.

Harry’s hands clutched Draco’s shirt, pulling him closer as he dragged his lips from Draco’s mouth and trailed them across Draco’s jaw.

“Easy there, Smoochie Pie,” Draco said, prompting Harry to pull back from him.

“Are you trying to ruin the mood on purpose?” Harry asked teasingly, moving back in to kiss Draco again but finding himself held back by Draco’s hands.

“Yes,” Draco answered plainly. He lowered his voice, his eyes going dark as he looked at Harry so intently that Harry shivered under the gaze. “If we start I won’t want to stop, and I don’t want to have sex on rocks with my family and friends just down the beach. Just wait until I get you into bed tonight.”

The promise of later made the rest of the day drag by torturingly slow. They returned to their friends to ward off temptation and suspicion, but stole tender kisses and touches whenever they could. Dinner that night was even more torturous, with Draco’s hand gripping Harry’s thigh for most of the night. 

When dinner was finally over, Harry and Draco were the first to leave. Once they were in the hallway, clear of Narcissa, they all but ran to their room. As soon as the bedroom door shut behind them, Harry found himself pressed up against it with Draco’s lips on his.

Rough hands tore at clothes, until finally Harry made to it Draco’s bed, naked and eager.

Harry laid on the bed, his arms splayed at either side of his head. He lifted his upper body slightly, propping himself on his elbows as he gave Draco a come hither look.

Draco came to Harry easily, climbing across the bed and positioning his legs on either side of Harry’s body. He pushed Harry down flat as he kissed him soundly, one of his hands steady on Harry’s chest, where no doubt Draco could feel the heavy drumming of Harry’s heart.

“Are you sure you want this?” Draco murmured against Harry’s lips. He sat back, biting his lip as he studied Harry. “We’ve not even been on a date yet.”

“We’ve had two years of dates, apparently,” Harry smiled. “And if you want, when we get back to London we can go to this amazing Japanese restaurant I’ve found. But also, I’ve very much like you now if you’re agreeable.”

“I’m very agreeable,” Draco said with a smirk. “And I’d like to go with you when we get back.”

Draco reached sideways to reach his bedside drawer - nearly falling off Harry _and_ the bed in the process - to reach a jar of lubricant which smelt pleasantly of cherries. Draco spread a generous amount onto his fingers, before drawing his hand between their bodies, searching until he found Harry’s entrance.

Draco pressed one finger inside Harry, easing it in and out slowly before adding another. Draco’s pace was tauntingly slow, with nearly every movement grazing his prostate, but still leaving Harry wanting more.

“I can take more, Draco,” Harry said, hoping he didn’t sound too bossy but bossy enough.

“I’m sure,” Draco responded, smiling when Harry threw his head back and moaned as his prostate took a good stroke. “But I’ve waited a very long time for this moment and I intend on savouring it. Have some patience, Dollface.”

“Don’t call me- oh, fuck!” Harry hissed, arching his back as Draco pushed in a third finger before Harry could finish his protest against the petname.

“I quite like Dollface for you,” Draco said conversationally as he slowly teased Harry with his fingers, ignoring the way Harry writhed as he begged for more. “You’re very beautiful, you know; your eyes are stunning.”

Nobody had ever complimented Harry like that before, especially not during sex. It made Harry feel good about himself, but if only Draco would stop teasing him.

“Please, Draco,” Harry urged, his voice breathier than anticipated. “Please...I need you inside me.”

“I am inside you,” Draco smirked, but his face was red and Harry realised - with much satisfaction - that Draco couldn’t hold out much longer.

“Your cock,” Harry said. “I want your cock inside me.”

Those words broke the spell, and Draco pulled his - admittedly wonderfully talented - fingers out of Harry, who eagerly spread his legs and allowed Draco to fall between them.

Draco quickly lubed his cock and pressed himself against Harry’s hole, pushing inside him much more urgently than he had with his fingers.

Harry closed his eyes in bliss as Draco’s cock filled him, then opened them again when Draco’s fingers curled against his cheek. Draco was staring at him, his eyes wide and glassy, filled with awe, and Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Harry tightened his legs around Draco’s waist, pulling him in deeper. Draco’s pace quickened, and he thrust into Harry hard and fast, both of them letting out a string of moans.

Harry moved his hand to his own cock, stroking himself in time, and with Draco’s cock filling him and slamming into his prostate, it didn’t take him long to find release. His walls clamped around Draco, triggering Draco’s own orgasm, and he closed his eyes and moaned loudly as he came inside Harry.

Draco collapsed bonelessly onto Harry, both of them sweaty and panting heavily. Harry caught Draco’s eye and grinned, and Draco smiled shakily back.

He rolled off Harry, collapsing on the other side of the bed face down. Harry rolled onto his side and swung his arm over Draco, pulling him close and burying his face against Draco’s shoulder.

They were both asleep in moments.

***

The following - and last - morning in France, Harry and Draco partook in lazy, sleepy, morning sex - which was Harry’s favourite kind of sex. Harry was still slick and loose from the night before, and Draco slid inside him easily.

Though Harry had thoroughly enjoyed himself both times, he couldn’t help but wince when he sat down for breakfast. The movement didn’t go unnoticed by Narcissa.

“Are you alright, Harry?” Narcissa asked, albeit somewhat coldly. She didn’t seem too pleased with Pansy, either, obviously deeming them sexual deviants who had corrupted Draco.

“Fine,” Harry answered, inwardly grimacing when his voice came out as a squeak. He cleared his throat. “I, er, slipped on a rock yesterday and I’m still a bit sore.”

“Is that what they call it?” Millicent muttered under her breath, making Ron snort. They both tried to stifle their laughter - badly - when Narcissa shot them a quizzical look.

“What Millicent means,” Theo said with a smirk of his own, “is that Harry was so _noisy_ when he fell over yesterday that we all thought his injury was far worse.”

“Oh my God,” Harry muttered, barely resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands; that became even harder when Pansy winked at him.

Lucius tugged at his collar uncomfortably, and Narcissa looked incredibly confused. Then a house-elf popped into the room and Harry thought the topic would be forgotten - until he noticed the house-elf was holding a lacy pair of red thongs in their hand.

“Sorry to be interrupting,” the house-elf squeaked. “But Mipsy is finding Miss Parkinson’s knickers in Miss Lovegood’s bed, and is unsure whose trunk to pack them in.”

Pansy did bury her face in her hands.

“Pansy?” Narcissa uttered, while Draco went rigid beside Harry. “First you have a threesome with Draco _and_ Harry, and now you’re a lesbian?! And Luna! How could you do that to Blaise? No wonder he’s hardly spoken all weekend!”

Blaise looked up from his phone. “Oh, Luna,” he said in monotone. “I’m so heartbroken - let’s break up; great.”

“Okay,” Luna said cheerfully.

“To be fair,” Pansy said gingerly. “I’ve always been a lesbian.”

“What?!” Narcissa exclaimed, the same time Draco hissed, “Pansy!”

“What?” Pansy said with a shrug. “No point hiding it now, Draco; your mother needs to know the truth.”

“What truth?” Narcissa asked sharply.

All eyes turned to Draco; Harry squeezed his knee comfortingly.

“Well, Mother,” Draco answered slowly. “I should tell you that I pretended to date Pansy because I didn’t want you to know I’m...I’m dating a...Muggle.”

“Oh for Salazar’s sake!” Lucius cried. “Narcissa, Draco’s homosexual and dating Potter.”

“What?!” Narcissa exclaimed, the same time Draco hissed, “Father!”

Narcissa blinked. “Why would you hide that from me, Draco?” she asked gently.

“You’re always talking about grandchildren and weddings and having a daughter-in-law,” Draco said quietly. “I knew I could never give that to you and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Oh, darling,” Narcissa murmured gently. “I never realised...it’s just that’s what all pure-blood women dream of for their sons, but if you’re homosexual I don’t mind, so long as you’re happy. And you’re with Harry?”

“Apparently so,” Blaise commented, his focus still on his phone. “The others were talking like they were shagging last night, but I thought Draco and Harry were faking a relationship, too.”

“What?!” Lucius exclaimed, the same time Draco hissed, “Blaise!”

“Well we were fake dating,” Draco admitted with a shrug, crumbling under the wild look Lucius was giving him. “But as it’s been pointed out we’re not faking it anymore, so I guess the pretend part doesn’t actually matter.”

“But why would you pretend to date Potter in the first place?” Lucius cried. “Surely you couldn’t think that would impress me? The boy’s an unkempt brat with poor taste and abandonment issues; you know I hate the sight of him.”

“I’m sat right here, you know,” Harry pointed out.

“Oh, I know,” Lucius grimaced.

“Lucius,” Narcissa hissed. “Mind your manners; you’re a host, remember. But Draco, the point still stands; why did you pretend?”

“Because I m…” Draco trailed off, the ‘m’ sound lingering on his tongue as he tried to think of a word other than ‘miss’. “Might. Have been thinking that it’s...unpleasant...not having you at home. I reckoned that if you thought we were in Harry’s favour then you’d come home.”

“France is our home, now,” Narcissa said gently. “That’s just the way things are now, Draco. We can come to visit you more often, if you’d like. Lucius and I would like to get to know Harry properly, wouldn’t we, dear?”

Lucius groaned.

“Make sure you don’t leave unexpectedly, though,” Harry said seriously. “Otherwise my severe abandonment issues might lead me to looking more unkempt than usual.”

The rest of the morning passed without incident, and the group spent the last of their holiday time sat in pairs on the beach.

Harry was sat between Draco’s legs and was leaning with his back against Draco’s chest, with Draco’s arms around him. The position felt comfortable and warm, and Harry didn’t ever want to move, if only they didn’t have a Portkey to catch later that day.

“You know,” Harry murmured, looking at all the other couples - Pansy and Luna, Theo and Hermione, Ron and Millicent, and Blaise and his phone - who all seemed as happy as Harry felt, “I think you have a matchmaking gift.”

“Probably,” Draco agreed. “I can tell when people have a good connection; it’s a perk that comes with being part-Veela.”

Harry found himself laughing, until he realised Draco wasn’t. “You’re not serious?” he said, twisting around to face Draco, who _did_ look serious. “But you’re a man.”

“Didn’t you wonder how Veelas came to be?” Draco asked, bewildered. “You see, when a daddy Veela loves a mummy Veela very much-”

“I know how reproduction works,” Harry snapped.

Draco grinned. “It doesn’t mean much, anyway. I’m just exceptionally good-looking, and gifted in the art of matchmaking.”

Draco leaned down to kiss Harry, and when he pulled back he had a wicked smile on his face. “You know,” Draco smirked. “You’re almost as pretty as me, Dollface.”

They were the words which set off the Great Malfoy Villa Water Fight.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You can show your appreciation for the author in a comment here or on [Livejournal](http://hd-erised.livejournal.com/47960.html). ♥
> 
> This story is part of an on-going anonymous fest hosted at [hd_erised @ livejournal.com](http://hd_erised.livejournal.com/). The author will be revealed January 8th.


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